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es,” he answered, so nonchalantly one could almost believe it was no big deal. She knew better.
“I’m not sure my malpractice insurance covers you.” Why she said something so corny she didn’t know, but the prickly words came out of her mouth.
His lips twisted. “You may recall that I have my own malpractice insurance.”
Unsure what to say and not wanting to come out with something as inane as before, Melissa glanced around the hallway. Her gaze landed on a diabetes poster. She focused on the diagram of the pancreas without really seeing the insulin-producing organ.
“Don’t you have class today?” she asked, when the silence had dragged on too long.
He nodded. “I teach on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I asked a friend to cover my class this morning.”
“Why?” She asked the obvious question.
He shrugged, again playing nonchalance to the max. “Because there are more important things than my work.”
An answer that could have a thousand meanings and each and every one ran through Melissa’s befuddled head. He’d come because she’d needed him. Somehow he’d known.
Although she would have made it with Cindy, having James there eased the strain on her body. Despite her initial stiffness, she felt better than she had in weeks.
He closed the chart and glanced away, seeming to think about what he wanted to say before speaking. “Look, I’ve got things under control. Go home, take a shower, read a book, whatever you want to do. Just rest.”
Go home? Was he joking? “I can’t.”
“Didn’t you hear me? You can. I’ll take care of everything here.”
“You can’t.”
His brow lifted. “Are you saying you’re a better doctor than I am?”
Melissa opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? That she thought she cared for her patients more than he did? That he treated the medical problem rather than the person as a whole? That he remained too detached to provide what her patients needed?
“Go back to Nashville, James. I’m not leaving my patients.”
He swore loud enough and with enough fury that Melissa was surprised no one came to check on her. He spun round, paced across the hall, turned, and met her gaze. Steely determination shone in his blue eyes. “I’m staying.”
His entire demeanor said nothing she did would make him budge.
“Fine.” She glanced at the chart in his hands, tugged it free. “Suit yourself. I’m going to check on John Brown.”
His jaw flexing, James took the chart from her before she’d even taken two steps. “Mr Brown is expecting me to finish seeing him. Go find your own patient.”
Knowing James was in the same building was driving Melissa crazy. Almost noon and she’d only seen a handful of patients. James had breezed through the morning, seeing patient after patient with a speed that drove her bonkers. How could he be meeting their needs when he barely spent any time with them? It wasn’t like he knew anything about them. Things like John Brown’s brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer a month ago and that John worried his prostate was a ticking time bomb.
With each passing minute her antagonism toward James grew. She admitted her anger bordered on the irrational, but she wanted to lash out at him and knew before the day ended they’d have words.
“Melissa?” Debbie interrupted her thoughts.
Melissa glanced up from the chart she was writing in and glared at her traitorous friend.
“I hate to bother you, but James’s doing a department of transportation physical on Luke Robison.” Debbie ignored the visual daggers zooming her way. “I just put Bob Woods in room two. His stomach is hurting, and he says it’s pretty bad. I’ve got a urinalysis and a complete blood count going on him. Do you want any other tests?”
“Let me check him first. I’ll be right there.” She put her pen in her scrubs pocket, then leered at her nurse. “Unless you’d rather wait on James?”
“Well, if he hadn’t just started,” Debbie mused, with sarcasm only a real friend could get away with, “I would. You’ll have to do.”
